


String Quintet in C Major

by Zwaluw



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Last challenge, M/M, Music, Tumblr: letswritesherlock, Uuuh?, violin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 10:17:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4915762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zwaluw/pseuds/Zwaluw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"John could never stop watching when Sherlock played this particular piece."</p>
            </blockquote>





	String Quintet in C Major

**Author's Note:**

> Written very quickly for the Last LetsWriteSherlock Challenge. I gave it a once over, so hopefully there's no glaring errors.
> 
> [This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EvEePDXL1AE&) is the piece that Sherlock plays.

It was that blasted music. John could never stop watching when Sherlock played this particular piece. And thankfully, Sherlock never noticed.

It was something classical and obscure, no doubt. But he could almost hear the other instruments involved. Could almost hear the second violin and the plucking of the guitar when Sherlock fingers danced over the strings.

The sound whirled around him.

He was so beautiful, standing there, staring out of the window, completely oblivious to whatever was around him. Sherlock’s world turned into strings and bow and timing. John's world narrowed and sharpened until there was only Sherlock.

Only the perfection of black curls and pale skin, of nimble fingers and the energy. It tingled down John's spine. Sherlock was never this focused when there was a body involved. He turned outward, arms flying and moving. It was exciting to be with that Sherlock, to witness the brilliance and the movement.

This was better. This was ever single muscle working with deliberation, to produce the brightest and clearest notes. This was Sherlock standing as still as a statue with only the sweeping movements of the bow and the waterfall of sound falling around him showing he was not made of marble.

When Sherlock played he was engulfed, swept away, reduced to nothing. When Sherlock played, John knew he loved him.


End file.
